Two weeks later, Rogue woke to the sounds of Logan grunting and whimpering in his sleep, the muffled noises drifting through the wall separating their rooms. It sounded like he was having a nightmare. She sat up and looked at her roommates' beds, but Kitty and Jubilee were still snugly asleep. They were apparently much deeper sleepers than she was.

Marie bent down and pulled on her forearm crutches. It had taken her weeks to wean herself off the walker. Logan had progressed from wheelchair to walker to crutches in record time. Currently, he was using a cane, but in a few days, a week at the most, he'd be able to give that up, too. A healing factor sure came in handy. Marie had to settle for a slower recuperation period.

Feeling her way with the crutches in the darkened room, she avoided stepping on the hidden obstacles of Jubilee's dirty laundry, books, and CD carrier that were strewn across the floor, and made it to the door.

Once she was out in the dimly lit hallway, she could hear Logan more clearly.

"Nnnn... Marrrr... Hmph... Nnnnn." Logan mumbled.

She reached for his door handle, but to her surprise it was locked. She knocked on the door instead.

"Logan?" she called, trying to keep her voice down so she didn't wake up anyone else.

Her voice only seemed to aggravate Logan's dream, his vocalizations becoming louder and more desperate. His mournful voice was filled with pain and anguish.

"Logan!" she called louder, concerned now only about waking him up despite the effect on other mansion residents.

"NO! MARIE!" Logan cried at the top of his lungs and then a *SNIKT* could be heard through the door.

"Logan?" Marie called through the wooden surface. "Logan, are you ok?"

He wasn't whimpering or moaning anymore, so he must be awake, but he didn't answer. All she could hear from his room was deep, labored breaths as he tried to bring his adrenaline-filled body under control.

Doors clicked open and half-asleep faces peered into the hallway, looking for the source of the disturbance.

"It's ok," Marie whispered in what she hoped was a calming voice. "Logan just had a nightmare. Go back to bed."

Most of the bleary-eyed people returned to their rooms without comment. A bleary-eyed Jean and rumpled Scott came rushing out of their room, however, almost as if her comforting words had woken them up more than Logan's scream.

"Rogue, are you ok?" Jean asked, looking her over.

"Yeah, fine," Marie answered, puzzled by their concern for her. "I'm worried about Logan. He won't unlock the door."

"He locked the door?" Scott asked. "Thank heavens he listened to me for once in his life."

"What's going on?" Marie asked, her suspicions rising every second.

"The last time Logan was here, he had nightmares, and he didn't wake well," Scott explained. "I thought if his memories started to return, the nightmares might too, so I suggested he lock the door."

"How will locking the door help bad dreams?"

"Rogue, the first time Logan slept in this room, he hurt you when you tried to wake him up," Jean clarified.

"No. Logan would never hurt me," Marie answered, shaking her head in denial. "Besides, I would have scars."

"He didn't mean to," Jean countered. "He thought he was still in his dream and attacked. You touched him and absorbed his healing factor. That's why you don't have scars."

"I... He..." Marie stuttered, trying to absorb this new information about her past which, despite her efforts, she couldn't remember. "Is he awake?" she finally asked.

Jean closed her eyes in concentration and then nodded.

"Ok, then it's safe. Go back to bed," she ordered them, turning all her attention back on Logan's door.

Jean and Scott exchanged looks and then turned and retreated to their room.

"Logan?" Marie whispered. "Everyone's gone. Open the door."

She waited, but there was no response.

"Please?" Marie asked, feeling her voice break a little. "I need to know you're ok."

"Go away," Logan growled through the wooden barrier.

"Not until I see you," Marie replied. Determined to wait, she settled herself down into a seated position on the floor, getting as comfortable as possible for what she was sure would be a long wait.

She was surprised that after only about 10 minutes, she heard a deep, surrendering sigh from the other side.

The doorknob clicked as the lock was undone, but the handle was never turned, and the door remained shut. Marie climbed back up to her feet and turned the handle on her own. Crutching in, she saw Logan's dark silhouette sitting on the bed, accented by the moonlight flooding in from the open window.

"Logan, sugah."

"You shouldn't be here," he grunted, but made no move to force her to leave. She slowly made her way to the bed, sitting down on the edge beside him.

"Tell me about your dream."

"I... Scooter was right. I hurt you."

"That was years ago, and you didn't mean to," Marie assured him, reaching out to stroke his bare arm with a gloved hand, trying to soothe his pain. "Tell me what happened exactly."

"The dream was so weird. It was night, and for some reason, I thought taking you to the Statue of Liberty in our pajamas was a great idea. Well, I got you to the top, right on the flame, and then I sta..." Logan coughed, trying to clear his throat of its sudden tightness. "I stabbed you. Right through the chest. You were gasping for breath and had this strange look on your face, like pain mixed with understanding and forgiveness.

"My heart ached, and I knew I had to save you. I reached out to touch you, to see if your skin would absorb my healing power when out of nowhere, this giant covered in animal skins and stinking of death hit me right in the face with a log, knocking me off the flame and down onto the head.

"For some reason, I'm out of my pajamas and in my regular clothes, and we're fighting on top of this statue head while all the time, I'm desperate to get back to you. I knew you were dying because of what I had done, but he wouldn't let me go.

"He tried to throw me off the statue, but I got my claws out and looped around one of the points on Liberty's head. When I land again, I'm dressed in tight, black leather, like I'm the star of a bad S&M movie. It wasn't just me and the Eau de Carrion guy anymore, either. Jean, 'Ro, and Scooter were there, dressed in black leather, too.

"They distracted the guy so I could attack and knock him off the statue in the same way he'd tried with me. By now, I'm frantic to get back to you, but I can't move. There's this guy as old as Chuck holding out his hand at me, and I'm frozen in place. Scooter blasted him good while he was distracted with me, and I'm finally free to go to you.

"I clawed my way up the arm of the statue and finally reached you. Blood had pooled around the metal floor from your wounds and your face was ashen. I ripped off my gloves and pulled you to me, but nothing happened. You were already dead, and I'd killed you."

"I'm alive. I'm here," Marie reassured him, looping an arm around his waist.

"It was so real and weird all at the same time. I felt like it was a memory, but it couldn't have been."

"Not unless you carry around three sets of clothing and change faster than Superman," Marie pointed out, trying to lighten the mood. "We can talk to the professor tomorrow and figure out what really happened, ok?"

Logan nodded, but he was still shaky from his nightmare.

"Do you want me to stay until you fall asleep?" Marie offered.

"No!" Logan answered quickly, pulling out of her hold. Shaking his head and trying to calm down, he said, "No." again, almost sadly. "I don't want to hurt you."

"I trust you, Logan."

"I can't be trusted, Marie. Not while I'm asleep."

"I don't believe that," Marie answered vehemently.

"I can't sleep if you're here. I'd be too worried," Logan said, trying another tactic.

Marie conceded when she saw Logan's pleading eyes. "Ok, but we talk to the professor tomorrow."

The professor helped clear up matters a little. The main points of Logan's dream had actually happened to them; it was just all jumbled together and mixed with Logan's own fears of what might have happened.

Even with the professor's explanation, Marie still couldn't remember any of those events and that bothered her. She'd been getting memory flashes almost every day, but they usually related to her childhood and not her life over the past few years. Why couldn't she remember more of her life at the school or her time with Logan?

After their meeting with the professor, Logan and Marie decided to take a walk around the mansion grounds. Logan still leaned on his cane slightly, but it was clear to Marie that she was the slow-poke now, still struggling with her forearm crutches.

Content in each other's company, they walked in mutual silence, thinking about the past Logan's dream had revealed. The professor had warned them that Logan might experience his previous nightmares of torture and experimentation, and since she had absorbed Logan, she might, too. Marie hoped for both their sakes that that little bit of Logan's past would remain hidden.

They were just approaching the lake when the professor's mental shout invaded their thoughts.

~The school is under attack. All students report to the bunker. X-Men, we're surrounded, but the main contingent is towards the east.~

Logan and Marie looked at each other, concern reflected in their eyes. The lake was on the east side of the mansion. They were directly in the line of attack and neither of them could run.

Logan pulled Marie up over his shoulder before she knew what was happening. Her crutches flew out of her hands and landed on the ground where she'd been.

"Logan. I'll just slow you down. If you go alone, you can make it!"

"I'm not leaving you," Logan stated firmly.

He walked as fast as he could, but he wasn't even halfway back to the mansion, leaning heavily on the cane and puffing in exertion, when the soldiers appeared.

Logan pulled Marie off his shoulder and down in front of him, using his body as a shield when they opened fire. Pain blossomed in his back as he took a few rounds, then the shooting stopped and the real battle began.

A red beam shot into the soldiers approaching him, blowing their formation apart. Cyke! The X-Men had arrived.

Cyclops kept firing at soldiers while the winds picked up and lightning began to strike the ground around other troops. Logan could see soldiers take aim, but their weapons refused to fire. Jean's arm was outstretched, her face a mask of concentration. The professor sat beside her, his eyes focused on the men attacking his school.

Logan couldn't believe that four people were holding off an army, but he saw it with his own eyes.

"Get out of here!" Cyke commanded, pointing at him and Marie.

Logan wanted to stay and fight, despite his weakness, but he had to make sure Marie was safe first. He pulled her up and leaning on each other, they started again for the mansion.

They were almost there when a shot rang out, and Marie fell. To Logan, it all seemed to happen in slow motion. She was there, stumbling along beside him, and then her body slammed against him before pirouetting to the ground.

More shots echoed from both sides and from behind of Logan, and soon he joined Marie on the ground, bleeding from a dozen wounds. The army or whoever they were had flanked the X-Men, keeping them busy with a heavy frontal assault while sneaking up on both sides with more troops.

Why hadn't Chuck seen it? Was he too focused on the battle in front of his face to feel the minds closing in for the kill? Logan would never know, for from his perspective on the ground, he could see the X-Men and their leader each be picked off and killed.

There was no time to mourn for the fallen, though. Marie was hurt. Chuck had told him this morning that absorbing his mutation had saved Marie's life twice. He could save her again if he acted in time.

Reaching out a thankfully gloveless hand towards Marie's face, he came up about a foot short. He had to pull himself painfully to her side before he could brush his fingers against that pale skin. Once he did, all he felt was soft skin. No powerful connection. No absorbing powers.

"No," Logan choked out of his shredded but healing lungs, pulling her face into both hands and willing her to take everything he could offer.

After a few agonizing seconds with still no response, Marie's mutation finally activated. Logan could feel his body weakening, the pain from the gunshot wounds building again in his body. He didn't care. Marie needed it more than he did. She had to live.

As he touched her, their memories were released, and he relived the feelings of concern, panic, caring, and even love that he'd had for her two years ago. Feelings that grew even stronger when combined with his experiences after arriving back home. They were meant to be together. Marie was everything.

'I love you,' he thought to her before he succumbed to unconsciousness.

Marie could feel gloved fingers feeling her pulse, as well as a cool hand against her cheek, when she finally woke up.

"This one's alive, sir."

"Very well, tie her up and put her in the truck with the others."

The cool hand was pulled away as the body lying next to her was pulled from her side.

"This is the Weapon, sir. He's dead."

"I can see that, Johnson," the irritated commander's voice retorted. "He's supposed to be invincible. How did he die?"

"Just a guess, sir, but from how this gal is healing, she probably absorbed his powers."

'Healing? Absorbed? Dead? Logan?' Marie's disjointed thoughts swirled through her head before an inner voice interrupted.

~Hi, darlin'.~